Zombies in the Kitchen like Roses

There's a killer in the kitchen. The knife feels good in my hand. I'm thinking about zombies and female killer. The dominant male killing streak ends between these killings and I want to know how she could make herself do it and how long did her thoughts develop into a killer chick with attitude. I'm talking about Stacy Strickland. When she killed her boyfriend, he was talking to a friend of hers but there was no contact for sex, just a touch of common ground that led him to believe her when she said she wanted to kill him and that she meant it. He was close. But she got closer. He died on her birthday which sealed the pleasure she felt when she had thought about it. There's something more to this I believe would shed light into my feelings of fear from dead corpses and living lovers. I have to know more. The End. The smell is sweet.

It's Not Safe

I'd compose a song but it'd be sung,
I'd help you find buried treasure, but it'd be found.
I love you until eternal life passes by me,
I'd grab your hand but he defines me,
I went past him.
You went past him.
You choose to play ahead,
I just played a game,
It's not safe.

By: Brandy Ruiz

New Posts in my Blog

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Dream Wave

The water makes its way towards me. My fear jolts my every move. I run from the large waves that form beyond the beach. I'm afraid the children and adults, including me, will drown or have to swim to higher ground. I make it to higher ground to my shock, another wave forms. Oh how I wake in fear of giant waves!! It comes to my surprise. I shall not look any further, but I do. I look and feel the waves take shape for the sole purpose of washing away all of our fear. I'm plenty sure that I can escape and the children can swim when this happens. I survive another night. There's plenty to live off from and large waves is one mode of energizing dreams; Dreams that we put into motion for everyday living. Let's live and let live. Let's live with our fears. Let's live without fear. Let's love our dreams and lives.